


Happy Christmas, Jonathan Crane; or, The Twelve Pains of Christmas

by ScaryScarecrows



Series: The Autumn Effect [10]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Christmas disasters, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-05 07:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 1,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5365757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScaryScarecrows/pseuds/ScaryScarecrows
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jonathan Crane does not like Christmas. Unfortunately, it comes anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tree

**Author's Note:**

> "The first thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me, is finding a Christmas tree."

Jonathan Crane has never had a Christmas tree. He doesn't see the point, either. It's a dying tree that might catch on fire because of all the lights on it. La-dee-dah.

All the same, Kitty wanted a Christmas tree. So here they are, looking for a halfway decent one. He is not impressed by any of them.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes. Now be quiet and help me."

**_God, you really are whipped._ **

_Shut up, Scarecrow._

**_She's practically got you eating out of her hand!_ **

_She does not. This is called compromising. You should try it sometime._

**_Whatever, Jonny. I don't 'compromise'._ **

_Which is why she likes me more than you._

**_Asshole._ **

Hah. He'd won that argument, and they both knew it.

"God! Gotham has no trees!"

What was she talking about? There were trees everywhere! Maybe not good trees, but still.

"Kitty…"

"To the Wal-Mart!"

"What-? Why?"

"We're getting a fake tree."

A fake tree? Really? Whatever. As long as it wasn't hot pink.

THE END


	2. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Icicle lights in particular are a nasty motherfrigger. We always just stuck them up and dealt with their tantrums once they were hanging and easily accessible. Now we have nice ones that don't so much as *think* about acting up.
> 
> "The second thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…rigging up the lights…"

Of course they'd gone to Kitty's parents for Christmas. And of course Jonathan had found himself roped into hanging up the Christmas lights-Kitty's father was getting over a bout of pneumonia. Lights, indeed.

They didn't work, either. He'd smacked them around, unplugged them and plugged them back in, checked meticulously for burned-out bulbs…oh, it was tempting to hang himself with them.

"How's it going, love?"

She had brought coffee with…Bailey's?

**_I love her._ **

"Dismally."

"Huh…oh. This is why they don't work." Huh? "You've got a missing bulb."

He was calm. He was very calm. He had never been so calm in his life.

**_Are you FUCKING KIDDING ME?_ **

"Right."

"I'd help, but I'm short. Come in, though, it's cold and supper's ready."

**_Missing bulb…bah, humbug._ **

_Indeed._

THE END


	3. Hangovers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, Doctor Crane. The song said hangovers.
> 
> "The third thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…hangovers…"

Owww.

Never again would he drink the punch at Arkham's Christmas party. Never.

He'd liked it, surprisingly enough. It had gotten him through the evening, anyway. But he hadn't realised how much alcohol was in there, and now he was paying dearly for it.

**_Mommy._ **

_Aspirin…_

**_We're out._ **

_Kill me now._

It was too bright in here and the clock was very loud. He would never drink again, he promised himself. Never. From now on he would stick to water.

**_I'm gonna blow chunks._ **

_Don't you…okay._

Ugh…death…

**_Let's just lie here on the tile, with the lights off._ **

_Agreed._

THE END


	4. Cards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go with e-cards. Save the trees. Besides, those can move! :D
> 
> "The fourth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…sending Christmas cards…"

Ugh. Christmas. Scrooge had it right before he got all sappy.

Jonathan sits at his desk in Arkham, looking sadly at the list in front of him. There's some sort of unspoken rule that he must send his colleagues Christmas cards. That's ridiculous. What about the ones who don't celebrate, for crying out loud?

**_Like us?_ **

_Exactly._

All the same, he supposes he must. Keeping up appearances and all that. Bah, humbug.

The cards are sickeningly _happy_ , adorned as they are with singing children and angels. Of all the holidays, Christmas is the worst. He has memories of sitting in church for hours.

_Kill me now._

**_I don't wanna die!_ **

_I don't care._

**_Start caring, buddy, or you're getting_ ** **_such_ ** **_a migraine!_ **

Well, it was time to get this over with. Perhaps the asylum would burn down and he would be saved from pretending to care.

THE END


	5. Bills

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which things go BOOM and Scarecrow is musically inclined.
> 
> "The fifth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…FIIVE MONTHS OF BIILS!"

"You _what_?"

"I wanted to see the effects of my toxin on mistletoe."

"And you blew up the lab!" She shook him. "In the middle of December! It is cold, miserable, and we are now homeless!"

"We can rebuild it." he said feebly. _This is all your fault._

**_My fault! Lies! You got the mistletoe._ **

_At your suggestion._

**_Well…um…fuck you._ **

"I can't believe this! I leave you alone for five minutes and you blow up the lab! We'll be paying for replacement materials for months…"

**_Perfect opening._ **

_Don't you dare._

**_FI-IVE MONTHS OF BI-ILS!_ **

_I hate you._

THE END


	6. In-Laws

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I thought my holidays were hectic.
> 
> "The sixth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…facing my in-laws…"

Okay, so they're not _technically_ his in-laws. Or maybe they are. They're the closest thing, anyway.

Well, only Jill Waters is _technically_ a maybe-in-law. Jackson Rippner-poor guy, must've had sadists for parents-is not.

Either way, dealing with them is not fun. Put Jill and Kitty together and chaos ensues. Put Jackson anywhere and the knives come out. Oh, the irony-Jonathan Crane is the only sane man.

**_And you're not even that sane!_ **

_I don't play with knives. Nor do I set the fire alarm off making toast._

Between the knife-throwing practice, the smell of burned turkey, and the talk of 'remember when we got chased by a pony because we had food?', he is reminded that 'holiday family time' is a nightmare.

**_Gas them all?_ **

_Kitty would kill us figuratively. The other two would kill us literally._

**_True._ **

His musings are interrupted by a, "Jackson, take your finger out of that frosting before I cut it off and shove it down your throat!"

Ah, holidays.

THE END


	7. Charities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The seventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…Salvation Army…"

"Spare some change?"

"No."

"You're sure?"

"I said no."

God! He was buying some syringes. He had not dragged himself out into the cold to be accosted by the goddamn Salvation Army.

"Sir…"

Christmas or not, broad daylight or not, this man had to be quiet. He made sure his scarf was secure around his mouth and nose, turned around, and gassed the pushy little man in the face.

_Three…two…one…_

"Getthemoffme!"

In the ensuing rush, he slipped into an alley and started home, whistling.

**_We wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas, we wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year!_ **

THE END


	8. Kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The eighth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…I WANNA TRANSFORMER FOR CHRISTMAS!"

"I hate kids."

"I know."

"Especially now." A toddler clutching a plastic robot rushed by them. "Look at it. Greedy little monster. When I was that age…"

"Now, now, love. You're not that old."

"Still."

She loops her arm through his and tugs him down another aisle.

"Come along. We just need to get…um…" She rummages through her pockets and comes up with the shopping list. "Ah! We just need to get soy sauce, chives, and those really thin noodles. Okay?"

"Fine."

Another toddler runs down the aisle. This one narrowly avoids smacking into him. Little brat.

"One more near miss, just one…"

"Jonathan."

"What."

"We are in public. You are not gassing the little cretins no matter how tempting it is."

 _Fine._ But he doesn't have to be happy about it.

"I WANT THIS ONE!" This is followed by a soothing flow of words, probably consisting of, 'maybe Santa will bring it'. Then…

"BUT I WANT IIIIIIT!"

He rubs his temples.

"Can't we just get McDonald's?"

"No."

THE END


	9. Parking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The ninth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…finding parking spaces…"

Leave it to the holiday season to bring the inmate's families out in droves. Half of these people never visit during the regular year, but now they've clogged up the parking lot. Where the hell is he supposed to park?

"I hate them all."

"I know. Is that a spot…never mind."

Great.

He slumps over the wheel and wonders why they all have to come _now_. Can't they come on birthdays? Or not at all?

"There!"

Where…yes! Finally! He would remember this for next year and have a few spots designated for the staff. After all, these guilty relatives couldn't handle an escaped serial killer.

Although that might be fun to watch…

THE END


	10. Batteries

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never have this problem. My parents go through more batteries than I do, so we always have some handy. Especially with the Wii being a much-beloved item in our household.
> 
> "The tenth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me...'Batteries not included?'..."

"What do you mean, batteries not included?"

Jonathan Crane stared at the package, feeling more than a little annoyed. Was it too much to ask that the voice changer come with batteries to make it work? Really?

_This is all your fault. If you could just use my voice and be done with it, this would not be happening._

**_Your voice is lame._ **

_And yours ravages my vocal cords._

**_So?_ **

He rolled his eyes and looked grouchily at the box. Now he would have to back out, fight his way through the crowds of idiots, and hope that there were still batteries available.

Great.

"Kitty?"

"Yes?"

"Do we have any batteries?"

"No!"

"Will you go out and get me some?"

"Hell no! You're fighting the greed-crazed mobs by yourself!"

Damn.

THE END


	11. Television

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To hell with Rudolph. The Grinch is better. The proper one with Boris Karloff, mind.
> 
> "The eleventh thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me...stale TV specials..."

God, why did Arkham have to put _Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer_ on yet again? Why?

The worst part was that both Harley and the Joker were laughing their heads off. Those annoying, high-pitched giggles…was it any wonder that everyone in the room was homicidal?

Jonathan frowned and disappeared further behind his book, trying to block out the singing snowman.

"Kill me now." he groaned. "Please, Kitty. Make it quick."

"Oh, hush, love. It could be worse."

"How."

"No idea."

"We're getting out of here before Christmas, or I will be suicidal."

She shook her head and went back to her own book. On the other side of the room, the clowns continued to giggle.

Two days later, the television was destroyed and the secure wing was short two patients.

THE END


	12. Carols

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have drunken neighbors that sing at all hours. I hate them. Happy Christmas.
> 
> "The twelfth thing at Christmas that's such a pain to me…singing Christmas carols…"

T'was the night before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Well…not exactly. It was, technically, already Christmas-two AM, to be exact. And several creatures were stirring. Mostly mice, plus one human. Jonathan Crane had come downstairs for a little snack. It was entirely Scarecrow's fault-the straw man had been musing on the scones downstairs for the past hour.

He was settled into his armchair with his snack and his notebook now, trying to see what had made the last batch of toxin explode. Then he heard the unmistakable sound of Christmas carols.

What idiot would be up at this hour? Scratch that-what idiot would be roaming around Gotham at this hour? That was equable to having a neon sign that said, 'mug/rape/kidnap/murder me!' Well, he was always in need of subjects, and since these morons were out unattended…

He set his notes aside and crept to the window. Where was the cause of the racket? He knew he'd heard carolling…ah. Not exactly.

The noisemakers were drunk. Damn. Drunk people were never cooperative without the aid of toxin, and _that_ was all the way in the lab. Too much work for this hour of the morning. Besides, Kitty would never forgive him if he brought drunk, annoying people into the house and woke her up.

He returned to his chair, scowling and wishing for a violent blizzard to appear out of nowhere. That would teach them to wander around singing at two in the morning.

The singing grew closer and he finally gave up on his notes. He was going back upstairs to try and sleep.

"Love, what are you doing…?"

"Sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Is that singing?"

"Ye-es…"

She rolled over, grumbling something about 'kill 'em all'. Tempting as it was, group murders tended to attract attention. Besides, he was tired and much more comfortable under the covers. They'd shut up eventually. They'd better, unless they wanted to deal with the Scarecrow.

The singing did not stop and he finally got back up and shuffled down to the lab. A few minutes later, he'd tossed a couple of Fear Capsules™ out into the path of the carollers. A few minutes after that, 'Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas' was interrupted with shrieks of terror. Much better.

"Happy Christmas, love."

Whatever.

"Happy Christmas."

THE END


End file.
